A Song For You
by AcousticMisery
Summary: From a LiveJournal rq meme prompt.  Rachel is sick, and Quinn's singing is the only thing that will make Rachel sleep well.


**Title:** A Song For You  
**Author:** melissagleek  
**Rating:** PG-13, for one small sexual reference  
**Pairing: **Rachel/Quinn  
**Word Count: **3,815  
**Disclaimer: **Glee is the property of FOX and Ryan Murphy. I also don't own the Michelle Branch's "Are You Happy Now?" or Brandi Carlile's "If There Was No You." Though, I wouldn't mind owning Brandi Carlile. The only payment I'll receive for this story will be in the form of comments, and I can't buy anything with them.  
**Summary: **Response to the following Live Journal rq_meme prompt:  
When Rachel gets sick, the only person who can get her to sleep well is Quinn, by singing.  
**Author Note: **I almost abandoned this story because it was taking way too long to finish. I'm still not completely happy with it, but here it is.

Greg Berry was sitting in his office, eating an early lunch, when he received the phone call.

"Mr. Berry?" a cheery voice asked.

"Yes, this is he. May I ask who's calling?"

"Hi, Mr. Berry. My name is Ms. Wright, and I'm the nurse at McKinley High School. It appears that your daughter Rachel has come down with a pretty bad case of the stomach flu. I just took her temperature a few minutes ago, and she also has a bit of a fever. There isn't much I can do for her, other than offer her a cold compress and a place to rest. She expressed a desire to go home early, and I agree that it would be the best thing for her. Would it be possible for you to come and pick her up from school?"

"Of course. I'll be there in ten minutes," Greg replied, tossing his half eaten lunch in the trashcan, his mind now completely focused on his daughter's health.

When Greg walked into the nurse's office, he saw Rachel sprawled across one of the small beds on the left side of the room. "How is she doing?" he asked Ms. Wright, his eyes still focused on his daughter, who appeared to be sleeping.

"Well, she's definitely doing better than she was an hour ago," Ms. Wright explained. "When you get home, make sure she goes to bed and gets some sleep. If it makes you feel any better, she should be fine by tomorrow evening. If you have any questions, please feel free to call me."

"Thank you, Ms. Wright. I appreciate you taking care of Rachel until I could get here," Greg replied. "Now comes the fun part," he added, as he walked over to where Rachel was resting. "Rachel, sweetheart," he whispered.

"Ugghhh," Rachel mumbled, not opening her eyes.

"Honey, Daddy is here. I'm going to take you home, where you can sleep in your own comfy bed. How does that sound?"

"Ugghhh," she mumbled again.

Gently, Greg pulled Rachel into a sitting position on the bed. Opening her eyes and seeing her father, Rachel smiled slightly, as she murmured, "I threw up. A lot."

"I know, sweetheart. It's ok. You just caught the stomach flu that's been going around. You'll feel better in a day or two."

"Ok," Rachel replied, standing slowly. "Ooohhh!" she cried out, stumbling slightly. "Ugh, when did the dizziness start?"

"You're probably just a little dehydrated. Here's a small bottle of Gatorade. Make sure you drink it in the car. Take small sips," Ms. Wright added. "The dizziness will go away soon."

Greg thanked Ms. Wright for the Gatorade as he picked up Rachel's backpack. Rachel led the way down the hallway, stopping briefly to retrieve her purse from her locker. As Rachel walked toward the front door of the school, she put her arm around her father and leaned into his side. "Thanks for picking me up from school," she said.

"No need to thank me," Greg replied. "You're my daughter, and you're sick. It's my job to take care of you."

As Greg slowly backed out of the high school parking lot, Rachel leaned her head against the window, reveling in the feel of cool glass against her hot forehead. Not long after the brunette closed her eyes, she suddenly opened them again. Looking over at her father, she groggily mumbled, "I'm going to miss glee club today."

"Sweetie, I think they'll survive without you for one day."

"I'm not worried about that," Rachel replied. "Although I wouldn't want to miss more than one day," she added. Greg laughed softly at the fact that, even though she was sick, Rachel was still very much a diva in training. Ignoring her father's laughter, Rachel continued. "Quinn was supposed to sing her solo today, and I really wanted to be there to hear her. This week's theme is 'A Song For You.'"

"Which means…" Greg began, searching for a clarification of the assigned theme.

"We all have to sing a song to one of the other glee club members. And the song title has to have the word 'you' in it."

"Ahhh," Greg replied, nodding his head.

"Naturally, I chose to sing Michelle Branch's 'You Get Me,' as I think it perfectly describes how grateful I am that Quinn was willing to look past all of my eccentricities and take the time to become acquainted with the real me."

"Well, I'm sure she appreciated the sentiment," Greg commented, smiling at the fact that the stomach flu had failed to take away not only Rachel's attitude, but also her extensive vocabulary. "Since you won't be at glee club today, maybe Quinn's performance will be postponed."

"Maybe," Rachel replied, her eyes drifting closed again.

As soon as Rachel walked through the front door, she made a beeline for her bedroom, flopping down on her bed as soon as she reached it. Rolling over to lie on her left side, she felt something dig into her leg. She stuck her hand in the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out her cell phone. She frowned slightly as she realized that Quinn would probably be wondering where she was. They only had two classes together, and they were both after lunch. Rachel had gone to the nurse's office right after second period. Looking at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was now 10:00. Flipping her phone open, Rachel typed a quick message and sent it to Quinn, praying that her girlfriend had her phone turned on. She then placed her phone on the nightstand beside her bed, closed her eyes, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Quinn rolled her eyes when she saw Santana headed in her direction. "Hey, Tina. I heard your Bette went home sick this morning. I warned you about the consequences of disgustingly sweet public displays of affection, " Santana said, her lips forming into a smirk.

"First of all, _I_ already warned _you_ several times about your lame references to _The L Word_. Secondly, how do you know Rachel went home sick?"

"Sorry, Buffy. Faith wasn't in chemistry this morning, so I asked around." Quinn's eyebrows raised in astonishment at hearing Santana admit that she had actually noticed Rachel's absence. Realizing what she had said, Santana suddenly exclaimed, "Hey, don't look at me like that! She's my lab partner—my randomly assigned lab partner, I might add—and we were performing an experiment today. Your girl might be annoying, but she's smart. When she didn't show up to class, I was forced to work with Finn and Puck, of all people. Can you even process how irritating that must have been for me?"

Rolling her eyes at Santana's rant, Quinn said, "Fine. I believe you. And Rachel isn't annoying. She's just very exuberant." Just as she got ready to also point out the fact that Buffy and Faith weren't _actually _canon, thus making Santana's earlier comment completely pointless, Quinn heard a faint sound emanating from her purse. Reaching into her side pocket, she pulled out her cell phone, which was currently beeping, alerting Quinn to the fact that she had recently received a new text message. Quinn smiled when she saw that the message was from her girlfriend.

_Went home sick. Wish I could hear you sing this afternoon. Miss you already. Love, Rach._

Quinn frowned slight as she read Rachel's message, suddenly reminded of the fact that she was supposed to sing her "A Song For You" song today. How could she sing a song to an empty seat? Sighing, Quinn put her phone away and turned to Santana. "I'll see you at lunch," she said. She then headed toward the foreign language hallway, determined to find Mr. Schuester.

"I'm sorry, Quinn."

"But Mr. Schue, I can't sing a song to Rachel if she's not there! That would pretty much defeat the entire purpose of this week's theme." Quinn threw her arms up in frustration. When she had finally tracked down Mr. Schuester, she calmly asked him if she could delay her solo performance for a day or two, until Rachel felt well enough to come back to school. When the Spanish teacher just as calmly told her that it wouldn't be possible, since the next theme would be assigned that afternoon, Quinn raised her eyebrows in complete disbelief. Someone had actually said "no" to Quinn Fabray.

"Mr. Schue, this is ridiculous."

"Look, Quinn, I understand where you're coming from. But the truth of the matter is that we need to get ready for Regionals. Though this week's theme was certainly fun, songs like 'I Got You Babe' and 'Never Gonna Give You Up' are _not _going to help us beat Vocal Adrenaline. And while 'You Get Me' is certainly a lovely song, it doesn't show off Rachel's amazing range."

"You're obviously never going to see this my way," Quinn replied. "So I guess I'll just sing to an empty chair, while everyone laughs at me."

"Sounds great!" Mr. Schuester replied, suddenly distracted by the sight of Emma Pillsbury walking down the hallway. "I'll see you at glee club!" he added with a smile, before running to catch up with the guidance counselor who had stolen his heart.

Quinn let out a defeated sigh as she began walking toward the cafeteria. As she turned the corner, she saw Puck chatting with Finn in the hallway, guitar case in hand. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head, and she marched up to the two boys. "I have a plan, and you're going to help me with it," she said, her eyes darting back and forth between the two boys.

"Uh yeah. Sure. Ok," both boys quickly replied, afraid of what would happen if they refused to help the head Cheerio.

"Good. Get your lunch and then meet me in the choir room."

At 1:00, Rachel woke up to the sound of her father lightly knocking on her bedroom door. "Sweetie, may I come in?"

Rachel rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Yes."

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel a little better. The sleep definitely helped."

"That's good to hear. I brought you some toast, in case you feel like eating something."

"Thanks. I am kind of hungry, now that you mention it." Rachel picked up the first piece of toast and took a small bite, enjoying the taste of the pumpkin butter that had been lightly spread on top of it.

Exactly thirty minutes after she had taken the last bite of the second piece of toast, Rachel jumped up from bed and ran to the bathroom, reaching the white porcelain toilet just in time. As she pulled her hair back with one hand, Rachel silently promised herself that she would _never _eat toast again.

By 2:15, Rachel was back in bed, but she was not sleeping. Instead, she was tossing and turning, alternating between throwing the covers off when she got too hot and pulling the covers up to her chin when she started shivering. This cycle went on until 3:30, when an exhausted Rachel finally fell asleep, fluctuating body temperature be damned.

Quinn stood in front of the rest of the glee club, prepared to sing her solo song. "As most of you know," she began, "I had planned on singing my song to Rachel. However, she is not here today, and, because Mr. Schuester is very mean and completely unfair, he won't let me postpone my performance. So, I have made a few changes, the most important being that I will now be singing a Michelle Branch song, in honor of the song that Rachel sang to me earlier in the week. I hope you enjoy it."

While Quinn spoke, Finn made his way over to the drum set, and Puck grabbed his guitar. As they began to play, Quinn leaned against the piano. After a few seconds, she began to sing, "Now, don't just walk away/Pretending everything's okay/And you don't care about me/I know it's just no use/When all your lies become your truths/And I don't care…"

As she neared the end of the first verse, Quinn ran over to where Will was sitting and looked him directly in the eye. Following a brief pause in the music, Finn's sticks wildly hit the drums, and Quinn screamed, "Could you look me in the eye/And tell me that you're happy now/Would you tell it to my face/Or have I been erased/Are you happy now?"

As Quinn sang, a slight blush appeared on Will's face, as he realized that she was singing the song to him. As his brain began to process the song's lyrics, he shrunk back in his chair and nervously began to run his fingers through his curly hair. When the blonde finally turned around and walked back to the piano, Will breathed a small sigh of relief.

Resuming her earlier position, Quinn continued to sing. "You took all there was to take/And left me with an empty plate/And you don't care about it, yeah/And I am giving up this game/And leaving you with all the blame/'Cause I don't care…"

Once again, as she broke into the chorus, Quinn ran back over to the glee club advisor and began singing directly to him. But this time, instead of walking away at the end of the chorus, Quinn held her position in front of Will. Softly, she began to sing. "Would you look me in the eye?/Could you look me in the eye?" Then, picking up the intensity, she jumped on top of the chair next to Will and sang, "I've had all that I can take/I'm not about to break/'Cause I'm happy now/Are you happy now?"

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Brittany yelled, "Go Quinn!" Soon, the rest of the club was echoing Brittany's statement, and Quinn smiled as she jumped off the chair and bowed dramatically.

When the applause and congratulatory shouts began to fade, Will stood up and slowly walked over to Quinn. Clearing his throat, he muttered, "I, uh…that was…very emotional, Quinn. I'm glad you were able to find a song that expresses your thoughts and feelings."

"I'm glad you liked it!" Quinn replied, her demeanor cheery and carefree. "Now, if it's ok with you, I'm going to leave early today, so I can stop by Rachel's house and see how she's doing." Before Will even had time to respond, Quinn broke in with, "Great. Thanks, Mr. Schue. You're the best!"

As Quinn slid into her car, she smiled to herself. "No one messes with Quinn Fabray," she said out loud, as she started her car and headed to Rachel's house.

"Dad! I can assure you that there is nothing seriously wrong with me! I just caught a case of the stomach flu!" Rachel yelled in protest, as her father Sam took her temperature, timed her heartbeat, and measured her blood pressure.

"That's what my last patient said before he was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer," Sam retorted.

"Dad, your last patient smoked three packs of cigarettes a day for over thirty years! I'm going to take a wild guess and say that habit probably had a lot to with why he got _lung cancer_!"

"Rachel Barbra Berry, you will not take that tone with me!" Sam shouted back.

As this exchange was going on, Greg stood by the doorway, wondering how long it would last. Sam Berry was just as stubborn as his daughter, if not more so, and he could not for the life of him understand why his sick daughter was arguing with her doctor father. Sensing that the argument was only going to get worse, Greg slowly approached his husband and placed his right hand on the other man's left shoulder. "Although I am quite sure that Rachel appreciates your concern, I think it may be best if we just leave her alone for awhile. The school nurse said that she could get as much rest as possible…"

"But…" Sam began.

"But nothing," Greg interrupted. "I have a major headache from hearing you two argue, and if you don't stop, you won't be getting any dinner tonight!" he threatened, giving his husband a stern look.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Sam said, "Ok. But if Rachel doesn't feel better by tomorrow evening, I'm going to run some more tests on her."

"Hey, that sounds like an awesome plan. See you two later!" Rachel said, hoping her fathers would get the hint and finally leave.

"Feel better, sweetie." Sam leaned down and kissed Rachel on the forehead.

"I can't believe you did that. You could catch some terrible disease!" Rachel exclaimed.

Sam just rolled his eyes at his daughter and walked out the door, followed closely by his husband.

At 4:00, Greg and Sam heard a faint knock at the front door. "It's unlocked. Come on in, Quinn!" Sam shouted, never taking his eyes off the TV.

Quinn slowly pushed open the door and entered the living room, where Sam and Greg were watching CNBC. "How is the patient?" she asked.

"Depends on who you ask," Greg replied. "I think she's doing much better now than she was two hours ago. My husband is ready to quarantine her room. And Rachel, well she can turn anything into a dramatic event."

Quinn laughed at Greg's response. "Do you mind if I go up to see her? I promise I won't stay long."

"Of course we don't mind! She's probably awake, but you may want to knock first."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of just bursting into Rachel Barbra Berry's room!" Quinn exclaimed, eliciting a laugh from Greg and a smirk from Sam.

Quinn knocked twice on Rachel's door. "Come in," a soft voice murmured.

Quinn stepped into Rachel's room and smiled when she saw that Rachel was wearing the 2010 National Cheerleading Champions sweatshirt that she had "borrowed" from Quinn's closet three months prior. Rachel slowly lifted up her head to acknowledge the Quinn's presence. Quinn took in Rachel's pale complexion and tired eyes. Her heart clenched at the sight, and she silently cursed the person responsible for spreading his or her nasty germs to the singer. "Hey, baby. How are you feeling?" Quinn quietly asked.

Lowering her head back down on the pillow, Rachel murmured, "I wish I could say something like, 'Better, now that you're here,' but…"

"But you feel absolutely terrible right now."

"Exactly. It comes and goes. I felt fine an hour ago, but now I feel nauseous again, and my forehead feels like it's on fire. But on a positive note, my dads' grocery bill will be lower each week, now that I'm never eating toast—and possibly bread in any other form—ever again." When Rachel noticed Quinn's puzzled expression, she added, "Oh, believe me. You don't want to hear the details."

"I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better."

"There is," Rachel replied. "Sing to me."

Smiling, Quinn approached Rachel's bed and grabbed onto her hand. "Are you really sure you want to hear me sing? It might make your head feel even worse."

"Don't be silly. You have a beautiful voice, Quinn."

A light blush appeared on Quinn's cheeks. "Ok," she answered. "Rachel Berry, here is my Song For You." Quinn let go of Rachel's hand and moved to the center of the room, positioning herself so that the sunlight drifting into the room illuminated her form. Softly, she began to sing. "When I see myself, I'm seeing you too/As long as I remember it/I'm feeling like I knew that/My jokes aren't funny/The truth isn't true/If there was no you/If you were my boat in the deep blue sea/I'd probably sink you down/I know I should have thanked you for carrying me/  
But for you I would happily drown…"

Rachel instantly recognized the song, and she titled her head so that she had a better view of her girlfriend. As Quinn began the chorus, she walked over to Rachel's bed and knealt beside it, lightly running her hands through Rachel's hair. Lowering her volume slightly, she continued singing. "All along your way/The darkest night, the longest day/I know what to say to make you laugh/And nothing you could do could make me turn my back on you/When you're looking for a fight I'm your man/When you need a friend you got my hand…"

While Quinn sang, she noticed that Rachel kept blinking her eyes, attempting to fight off sleep so that she wouldn't miss any of Quinn's performance. Slowly, Quinn leaned down and whispered, "It's ok. Go to sleep, sweetie." When Rachel's eyes finally drifted shut, Quinn softly sang again. "What I really mean/What I'm trying hard to say/Is that I'm counting on you and you got me too/My secrets aren't safe/I'm singing out of tune/If there was no you/If there was no you…"

As Quinn began to sing the chorus again, she walked over to the window and drew the curtains shut, bathing the room in a thick coat of darkness. She then tiptoed over to Rachel's bed, leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her girlfriend's forehead. Pulling back slightly, she lightly ran the back of her hand across the place where her lips had just been, smiling when she noticed that Rachel's skin no longer felt like it was on fire. Quinn leaned down once more, this time placing a kiss on Rachel's cheek. "I love you, Rachel," she whispered softly.

Quinn slowly made her way over to the door, careful not to make any loud noises. She had no sooner put her hand on the doorknob when she heard Rachel stir. When Quinn turned around, she heard the other girl faintly say, "Brandi Carlile. 'If There Was No You.' Very nice choice."

"Thanks," Quinn replied.

"You do realize that, because you chose that song, you will totally be getting laid as soon as I'm well again, right?"

"I…uh…." Quinn replied.

Laughing softly, Rachel whispered, "Goodnight, Quinn. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight," Quinn breathed out, her mind still focused on the question that Rachel had asked her. Grabbing onto the doorknob, Quinn took a deep breath, in an attempt to clear her thoughts of any inappropriate thoughts. After all, she would more than likely run into Rachel's dads on her way out of the house, and it would help if she were able to actually form whole sentences.

As soon as she heard Quinn's footsteps approach the top of the staircase, Rachel closed her eyes once more and drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

Sure, the stomach flu may have taken away Rachel's seemingly boundless energy and her love of toast, but it could never take away her diva attitude, her extensive vocabulary, or her ability to leave her girlfriend completely speechless.


End file.
